


darling, c'mon and let me in, darling

by eijiology (melancholysnape)



Category: Banana Fish (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Introspection, M/M, Nightmares, it's just them being soft what do u want from me, up till episode 12 cause that's where this is set
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:00:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27857206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melancholysnape/pseuds/eijiology
Summary: They never bother to turn on the bulbs in the kitchen, because the luminescence of the moon and the glare of the city lights are always just enough for him to make sure he isn’t stirring in rat poison in lieu of sugar.That, and the semi-darkness always makes him feel like this is a moment just for the two of them. Not a gangster and criminal and murderer, not a wash-out athlete and a failure, but just Ash and Eiji and the moon above them.(Or, Ash has nightmares. Eiji helps.)
Relationships: Ash Lynx/Okumura Eiji
Comments: 10
Kudos: 95





	darling, c'mon and let me in, darling

**Author's Note:**

> title is from [in the dark, by camila cabello](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NGPgr8tnWfw) ,,,check it out hehe

Three am finds Eiji in the kitchen.

It’s a familiar dance by now, to shrug off his sweaty duvet and shuffle over to Ash’s bed, smooth out the creases on his forehead and quiet his whimpering. 

Ash doesn’t offer any other details apart from nodding his assent that it was a nightmare, and Eiji doesn’t push.

He tugs Ash out of bed, gently pushes him towards the counter and lightly wraps a blanket around his shoulders. 

Ash leans against the marble-top, blinking blearily, golden hair a mess atop his head. His eyes are glazed over, looking directly at him but unseeing.

He’s probably still coming down from the adrenaline high that comes from reliving one of his many near-death experiences, and it’ll take him a while to be well and truly awake. 

If Eiji looks close enough, he sees the greying skin under his eyes, the remains of tears that have crusted on his cheeks, the red grooves pressed into either side of his nose by his glasses, the indents of his teeth that have bitten down on pink lips. 

But Eiji does not allow himself to linger, because now is not the time to pause. Instead he pads over to the kitchen sink, splashing ice-cold water on his face and throwing open the kitchen window overlooking the city.

The late night (or would it be early morning?) breeze sneaks its way in to dry the sweat under their armpits and his damp fringe. 

He stretches and opens up the cabinet above his head, arching up onto his tiptoes to reach the tin that sits right at the front.

It’s half-full, and when Eiji sets it onto the surface in front of him the residual cocoa on the lid puffs into the air. 

Eiji reaches below to pull out one of the drawers, where their meagre collection of mismatched cutlery rattles. He fumbles around and pulls out a spoon at random, scratched and dented near the end. 

Beside him, Ash is finally starting to come back to himself, hands rising to grip at the duvet that’s now dangerously close to slipping off his right shoulder. He cocks his head to the right ever so slightly, and Eiji smiles at him. 

Careful not to overwhelm him with words just yet, he checks Ash with his hip, nodding towards the fridge. Ash complies, wordlessly shuffling over and rummaging around for milk, then heading to the other side of their tiny kitchen for a saucepan. 

While waiting, Eiji scoops powder out of the tin, spoon scraping against the metal. He opens up another drawer, this time the one on the right, and takes out small containers filled with sugar and salt. 

He adds a large scoop of sugar and a slightly smaller scoop of salt into Ash's mug, doing the same with his own. Eiji likes these mugs, he does. 

Despite the chip on his, or perhaps because of it, because the chip is evidence of Ash’s existence, of his ability to slink around soundlessly like a cat and shock Eiji with his sudden presence, and then manage to apologise without even showing a shred of remorse. 

It doesn’t help that they match, Eiji with a sun printed onto it, and Ash’s with a moon. Adding on the fact that it was Bones who had bought this for them, after finding it in a garage sale on the other side of town, and Eiji has to admit that perhaps this is something he has grown especially partial to. 

The milk carton makes a small thud as Ash sets it on the counter in front of him, followed by the clang of the saucepan, and Eiji pauses in his ministrations to smile up at him in gratitude. 

It seems that Ash is feeling more like himself, because he huffs a little, lifts the corner of his mouth into what _might_ be a grin, and moves to stand behind Eiji.

There's enough space between them for Eiji to move comfortably, but not enough because he can feel the heat from Ash against him. 

It radiates and for a split second Eiji find himself in the shoes of an old cat lounging in front of a fireplace.

The temptation is there, to lean in into the warmth until there is nowhere to go, but he ignores it. Ash will touch him when he feels like it, and Eiji simply has to wait. 

So he places the saucepan on the stove, switches on the flame and pours half the carton in one go. The milk sizzles on contact, then simmers.

Behind him, Ash's breathing is a constant presence, and Eiji finds himself mimicing his rythm of inhaling and exhaling. 

He cranes his neck to the left, and glances at Ash. His pale face is aglow in blue from the flame, and backlit by moonlight. 

They never bother to turn on the bulbs in the kitchen, because the luminescence of the moon and the glare of the city lights are always just enough for him to make sure he isn’t stirring in rat poison in lieu of sugar. 

That, and the semi-darkness always makes him feel like this is a moment just for the two of them. Not a gangster and criminal and murderer, not a wash-out athlete and a failure, but just Ash and Eiji and the moon above them.

The image of Ash standing there in the kitchen, in _their_ kitchen, burns itself into Eiji's memory. It lets Eiji hope, lets him carefully cradle this moment in his palms and tuck it carefully within his ribcage, solid and real and thudding against his heart.

But then the milk rises and nearly boils over, and Eiji scrambles to turn off the flame. Perhaps the late hour is getting to Eiji, because when the milk collapses back down, he feels as if it has just been chastised and it feels sorry for itself.

Eiji waits for a beat for it to still, and then picks the saucepan up in one hand, milk sloshing as he skillfully maneuvers it above the mugs. 

Ash's hands come up from around Eiji's waist, one hand holding the mug steady, other hand slowly stirring the powder while Eiji pours the steaming milk into the mugs.

Eiji relaxes into him, head resting against Ash's shoulder while he takes care to direct the flow of hot liquid straight into the mugs.

He moves to the next mug, and Ash repeats the process, both working together like a well-oiled machine until there are two mugs of hot chocolate steaming on the counter, and Ash’s arms are folded around Eiji’s waist.

Eiji reluctantly pulls out of his embrace. Ash tightens his grip at first, but Eiji nudges him towards the couch. Ash goes, but not without a petulant sigh. Eiji thinks his heart might be fit to burst with fondness, and huffs out a laugh.

He picks up their mugs and follows suit. Faced with Ash’s back as they walk, Eiji finds himself struck by how much they’ve progressed in the past few weeks.

Back when they had just shifted in, it had been nearly impossible for Ash to sleep. In retrospect, it was fairly obvious that the majority of Ash’s insomnia was self-imposed.

But that didn’t change the fact that Ash spent hour upon hour working or reading, and even when he did manage to fall asleep he would nearly always be awake within the hour, scared out of his mind or thundering around in a terrible mood.

He’s asked Ash before, when the afternoon heat had melted away both of their reservations, and it had only taken a beat for Ash to nod his head in acquiescence.

It was an odd sight, Ash admitting that closing his eyes meant he would be haunted by the ghosts of his past, while his hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat, and a bag of ice shoved down his t-shirt in a bid to cool down.

But the humour of his appearance did not detract from the seriousness of his admission, and Eiji resolved to do what he could. 

Eiji has tried, since then, to coax Ash into sleeping. He had felt a little wary at first, of overstepping his boundaries when it came to Ash. He never wanted to make Ash feel uncomfortable, and didn't know if he should get close.

But Ash took his hand and told him it was okay, that he didn’t mind it if it was Eiji. It eased the burden on him, made it easier to breathe. So when Ash had a nightmare, Eiji felt free to coax him through it.

Whether that meant holding his hand and gently stroking his hair, or slipping in next to him, or even waking him up with a gentle shake. Eiji used to help his sister with nightmares, back in Japan.

Following the same thinking, the first time Ash awoke from a nightmare, he had made him a cup of hot chocolate. It had let him calm down, the sugar and cocoa doing wonders for his anxious brain.

Ash hadn’t explicitly asked for it again, but Eiji could see how much it had helped him, and thus began their tradition, of sorts. 

Sometimes, he’ll follow Ash into his bed while the other reads, leaning over him to turn off the lamp and turning around to put Ash’s hand across his waist, so that even if he doesn’t sleep he will still rest.

Ash will curl around him, pushing his nose into his neck and tucking him close, and Eiji will hum a lullaby under his breath until he falls asleep. 

On days when it’s definitely too hot for any form of prolonged contact, Eiji will take both their pillows and a bedsheet, dragging them into the living room right in front of the big windows, and lay out a makeshift futon for them.

The hardwood floor will be cool to the touch and when he throws the windows open there is a breeze, which is not cold but miles better than the stagnant air in their bedroom. They’ll lie there, and sometimes Ash will reach out to stroke Eiji’s hair, and sometimes Eiji will trace the veins on Ash’s forearm.

On one memorable occasion, there was an old hammock , tied up courtesy of Kong, and Ash had jumped into it, dragging Eiji until they were a tangled mess. He had pushed his weight until they rocked side to side, and Eiji had felt slightly dizzy but the smile on Ash's face had been worth it.

They didn't sleep there, though, because children's hammocks were never made to withstand the combined weight of two nearly grown men, and had collapsed barely ten minutes into piling. 

Today, they sit on the couch, curled into each other under the blanket around their shoulders, steam wafting up from the chipped mugs in their hands.

Eiji talks about the new cashier at the grocery store down the street, Mrs. Owen who has taught him how to check avocados for their ripeness, the stray cat who has learnt to slink around the trash cans whenever Eiji goes to dispose of their rubbish, because he smells like fish and sometimes he’ll have a sardine left in the tin for her.

Ash listens to him and he smiles, a small, true thing, and his shoulders lose the last remnants of their tension. He relaxes in increments, until he’s meshed into Eiji, arms brushing with each movement and golden hair pillowed on black.

The rumbling of cars and the occasional murmur on the street are the only other sounds at this time of the night, and Eiji finds himself unwilling to raise his voice beyond a whisper.

The feeling that had enveloped him in the kitchen resurfaces, only stronger this time round, and Eiji is so stricken with the desire to capture this moment for just the two of them once again.

He wants so badly to remain in this moment forever, in the three a.m. moonlight where it feels like nothing can ever touch them. 

But the night will pass, as nights are wont to do. 

They’ll wake when the sunlight is insistently filling up every nook and cranny of their apartment, greedily lighting up every spot it can reach.

Their mugs will be long empty, rings of foam lining the interiors from where they rest on the floor next to the couch.

The blanket will be thrown over them in a somewhat haphazard manner, and the couch pillows will be knocked onto the floor.

There will be a bird perched on their windowsill, hopping among the plants that Eiji has painstakingly grown, and the stray cat that is attached to Eiji will be licking itself clean.

Their hands will be dangling off the edge of the couch, and somehow their fingers will have intertwined.

Ash’s feet will be hooked over the arm of the couch with his toes curled inwards in the cold morning air, and he will have drooled all over Eiji’s shirt.

Eiji will wake up first, because old habits die hard, and there will be a crick in his neck, and his lower back will twinge every time he bends over for the whole of next week.

But he will have spent the night listening to Ash’s heartbeat, and will consider it a measly sacrifice for the greater good. 

And then Eiji will look up to Ash’s face, lips parted and slightly snoring and haloed by hair as golden as the sun, and he will know love. 

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you enjoyed that,,, thank you so much for reading ❤️❤️❤️
> 
> okay but fr,,, if you ever have a nightmare, or feel sad or just WRONG u should eat smth sweet,,, like chocolate!! the cocoa releases feel good chemicals aka endorphins in ur brain and it will make u feel so much better trust me
> 
> ALSO!! [ MY TWITTER](https://twitter.com/dianxiaholic) :>


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